


For the Love of Roscoe

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [35]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Boyd Doesn't Take Crap, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Not Emotionally Constipated, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Lydia Martin Ships It, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Slash, Stiles Loves Roscoe, Stiles Stilinski is Not Amused, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski's Jeep's Name is Roscoe, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Derek was pretty sure there was something wrong with Stiles. He wasn’t used to seeing Stiles quiet and… sad?Derek decidedly didn’t like it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 38
Kudos: 582





	For the Love of Roscoe

Derek was pretty sure there was something wrong with Stiles.

Or, something more wrong than usual. Of course, he already knew that Stiles had his many, many mannerisms and oddities. The boy was spastic, loud, and didn’t get close to enough sleep. Derek was pretty sure his diet consisted of Adderal and curly fries, and he was always getting himself in trouble.

But Derek thought there was something else wrong with Stiles. Like something on an emotional level.

He wasn’t used to seeing Stiles quiet and… sad?

Derek decidedly didn’t like it.

Things started when Stiles showed up at the loft after school one day, just like usual, and proceeded to ignore the rest of the pack all afternoon. He did his homework, flipped Peter off every time the man tried to speak and gave Isaac flat looks when he walked around in his scarves. But he was also acting off. He was acting weird.

Derek thought his scent smelled more sour than usual.

The thing is, he didn’t know how to approach this. Whenever one of the betas was feeling down, Derek would either give them a wide berth, train them until they didn’t have the energy to feel sad, or sometimes offer the beta a little extra attention. With someone like Isaac or Erica, that worked like a charm.

He didn’t know what to do about Stiles. The boy was grinning and laughing so often, Derek didn’t know how to react when he wasn’t anymore.

He tried to put Boyd on Stilinski duty. But the beta didn’t seem very excited about that.

“You want me to what, now?”

“Keep an eye on Stiles,” Derek said, trying to put as much Alpha authority into his voice that he could. “Make sure there’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Why don’t you just ask yourself?”

“Because,” Derek said. “I’m putting you on Stilinski duty.”

“I still have a job and schoolwork,” Boyd said flatly. Normally, Derek admired the beta for standing up for himself. There was a reason Boyd was a second right from the beginning, but at the moment all he wanted was to hear an _‘okay’_ or maybe a _‘Stiles is fine’._ Derek crossed his arms, glaring, but Boyd still didn’t look cowed.

“I’ll pay you.”

“You’ll pay me to keep an eye on Stiles.”

“One week.”

Boyd looked at him for a long moment. Then, shaking his head, he just turned away. Derek didn’t think that was the answer he’d been looking for.

He frowned after the beta before sighing to himself.

There was no way he was putting Erica on Stilinski duty. The last time he’d asked her to deal with him, she’d knocked Stiles out with a piece of his own car and then left him in a dumpster. Derek figured Isaac would probably go for the ‘I’ll pay’ deal, but that might not end well for Isaac or Stiles.

Derek rubbed a hand over his face and realized with a pang that he was going to have to deal with this himself. Because clearly, there was something wrong.

Stiles was at his desk when Derek pulled himself through the window that night.

The boy startled so hard, he went flailing out of his seat. Derek fixed him with an unimpressed gaze and crossed his arms, looming over where the teenager had fallen.

“What’s wrong with you.”

When he heard himself, Derek realized maybe he should’ve thought through this one or two times more. Because that didn’t exactly sound comforting.

Stiles glared up at him. “What the hell, Sourwolf?”

“You smell wrong.”

That didn’t sound too great either. Internally, Derek cringed.

Stiles apparently felt the same way. Because the boy shoved himself up so he and Derek were chest to chest, and glared. Derek smothered the urge to retreat a few steps back. He was the Alpha after all and he’d just come here to make sure Stiles was okay.

He was trying to do something good, dammit.

“Well, excuse me for smelling a little bad,” Stiles snapped. “I haven’t taken a shower in a couple of days because I’ve been drowning underneath homework, car troubles, and pack stuff. You want to tell me I need to bathe, Sourwolf? Because if that’s the case, you can take your furry ass right back out the window—”

“Car troubles?”

Stiles snapped his mouth shut, not looking happy at being cut off. But once more, Derek noticed his scent changed. The boy ran a hand through his hair before dropping back into his desk chair with a slight grunt. “Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Why the hell do you care, Derek?”

“I’m allowed to care.”

“Yes, but that usually doesn’t happen, does it? Dude, the last time you asked about me it was when I accidentally forgot a pack meeting and you slammed me against a wall for good measure.”

Derek winced. Hadn’t that been like three months ago? He was pretty sure that had been a little while ago.

Stiles was looking at his computer screen miserably now. Derek shifted from foot to foot before sighing and turning away. 

“Fine, I’ll leave then.”

Half-way out the window, he didn’t get a reply. But then it sounded like Stiles was grinding his teeth and the boy turned in his chair, fixing Derek with a last look. “Roscoe’s broken down on me. My dad doesn’t think we can afford to get her fixed.”

Derek paused, one leg still inside of the boy’s bedroom. He blinked and then pulled himself back in. Stiles crossed his arms over his chest but only looked even more miserable.

“I tried taking her to the auto mechanic’s but he said it’ll be expensive. My dad thinks all the repairs aren’t worth it and I should think about just saving up for a new car.”

“I could…” Derek trailed off. What could he do? Offer to pay to fix it? Offer to take a look? Derek knew a thing or two about cars but probably not enough. “We could go car shopping. If you wanted.”

Stiles looked up at him with blazing amber eyes. “Seriously, dude? Car shopping?”

“... You don’t like car shopping?”

“No, asshole,” Stiles said, shoving himself up. “I’m not getting a new car! Roscoe is my baby! I’m not jumping to the next best model because she grinds in second sometimes!”

Derek blinked at him, surprised. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“Just go away,” Stiles said, dropping back into his chair.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Derek rolled his eyes and turned away again, pulling himself out the window. This time, Stiles didn’t say a word to stop him and Derek supposed that was fine. If Stiles wanted to be difficult, Stiles could be difficult. It’s not like Derek understood what the hell was going on.

It was a car. Just a car. Right?

Quietly, he thought that if someone ever told him to get rid of or sell the Camaro— Laura’s old car— he’d be pretty pissed too. But that was different.

Derek didn’t look back.

-

Lydia cornered him after the pack meeting the next week. 

Derek didn’t know why because he and Lydia didn’t often speak. They had this grudging but quiet respect between the two of them and Derek was perfectly okay with that. He’d never admit that the girl scared him a little and he knew better than to get on her wrong side.

He’d never admit that out loud, but he was also pretty sure he’d done nothing wrong. So he wasn’t sure exactly why the girl was looking at him with flashing green eyes while the rest of the pack filtered out of the loft.

“You,” Lydia said, pointing a finger in his face. “Have some things to fix.”

“What.”

“Stiles is moping more than usual. What have you said to him?”

Derek blinked at her. Then he scowled, starting to brush by. But Lydia caught his arm before he could make his escape and Derek swallowed down a growl, turning back toward the red-head.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“So why is he acting like the world has ended?”

“I don’t know,” Derek said in a snarl. “The last time I tried to ask, he spouted some nonsense about homework, pack stuff, and his stupid broken car. Why don’t you try asking yourself?”

Lydia let go and Derek instantly regretted his words. He clenched his jaw and ducked his head.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. He won’t talk to me.”

“His mother’s car broke down?”

Derek looked back up at that, brows furrowed. Lydia raised a perfectly manicured brow at his expression and then signed, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh my god. You men really are thick sometimes, aren’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean.”

“Roscoe is more than a ‘stupid car’, Derek. It was his mother’s. His dead mother’s. Why else do you think Stiles keeps the thing even though it’s held together by duct tape and chewing gum? It’s not like it attracts either the same or opposite gender.”

Derek stared at her. Then, as Lydia’s words sunk in, he cursed and brushed by. Derek could feel the girl watching him all the way out of his own loft but he didn’t look back.

Of course. Derek should have known.

If someone would have made fun of the Camaro, Derek probably would have disemboweled them. Because not only was it his car, his baby, but it had been Laura’s. She’d left it in New York with a promise that if Derek laid a finger on it while she was gone, she would be the one disemboweling him.

But she’d never come back. So he’d taken it as his own, if not to remember the time they’d spent together listening to 80’s music too loud and drinking crappy milkshakes from cheap fast food drive-throughs years ago. 

Derek didn’t pull him through Stiles’s window right away, though. Instead, he waited until the boy’s bedroom light had gone off and then he waited a little longer. Only when he was sure Stiles’s heartbeats were calm with sleep did Derek enter the house, creeping quietly around the boy’s room.

Stiles’s keys sat on his desk. Derek scooped them up and then pulled himself out the window again, moving toward the old crappy jeep that he sort of hated.

Not for a good reason, he thought. Other than the fact it was more likely to get Stiles killed one day than the monsters of Beacon Hills were, that is. Derek had always hated the thing with a passion because he was pretty sure one day, it would break down when Stiles needed it the most.

But maybe Derek could fix that.

The guy at the auto repair shop didn’t seem happy to see him.

“We close in thirty minutes, man,” he said, arms crossed. “And I’ve seen that piece of crap already. It’ll take a few hours at least and I don’t even know if it _should_ be salvaged—”

Derek had the man shoved against the nearest wall in a second, doing his best not to flash his eyes. The fingers of one hand curling into the guy’s t-shirt, Derek pulled out his wallet with his other and flipped it open. He pulled out a few bills and held them up, before letting the guy go again.

“A tip. If you fix the car tonight.”

“Look, man—”

“Fix the car,” Derek said, a slight snarl to his voice. “Tonight.”

The guy’s gaze flitted from Derek to the bills in his hand, and then back. With a small, timid nod, he started toward the jeep and Derek smirked to himself, settling down in one of the waiting room chairs.

It took nearly three hours.

By the time the guy came back into the room again, Derek was half-asleep. But he sat straight up and raised an eyebrow, and the mechanic shifted nervously.

“That should do her.”

“The jeep is safe to drive?”

“I mean, she could be safer, but—”

Derek narrowed his eyes and the guy’s heartbeat picked up as he gulped. Wordlessly, he nodded, and Derek smiled, placing the bills into his hand as he ducked back out of the room. 

It was nearing two in the morning when Derek parked Roscoe back in the Stilinski driveway. He’d left the Camaro a few blocks down just in case Stiles woke up or the Sheriff came back from his shift early, but things seemed to be quiet. 

Except, when Derek pulled himself through Stiles’s window to place the keys back on his desk, the boy was wide awake and waiting.

“I’m not an idiot, Derek.”

Derek nearly fell right back out the window.

He froze with one leg half in the room and the other still on the roof. Stiles sat in his bed with his arms crossed and he didn’t look impressed. Slowly, Derek pulled himself the rest of the way into the room.

“I don’t—”

“Keys, now.”

Derek deflated. Silently, he tossed them to Stiles’s blankets and the boy snatched them up before fixing Derek with another glare.

“How much was it?”

“Was what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Derek! I thought someone had stolen her until I realized only one idiot would take the keys from my literal bedroom. Only one idiot who literally creeps around in the dark twenty-four seven.”

“I don’t creep around,” Derek said hotly. Stiles only raised a brow.

“So, how much was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Derek, I swear to god—”

“It doesn’t matter, Stiles,” Derek said, cutting him off. Stiles glared at him and Derek glared right back. “If it would have been the Camaro, I would have done the same. It’s your mother’s car, it means something to you, and I should have understood that.”

Stiles’s glare melted away. The boy stared at him for a moment and Derek felt his face grow hot, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t mean it like—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, cutting him off. Derek blinked at the boy and Stiles’s face softened. “Okay.”

“What.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said. “For uh… you know. Thanks.”

Quietly, Derek nodded. Stiles gave him a crooked smiled, dangling his keys in the air.

“Wanna take her for a ride then?”

“It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah, but dude, I haven’t driven Roscoe in four weeks. And I could always use some curly fries, two o’clock in the morning or not.”

Derek gave him a long look. Then he rolled his eyes and allowed himself the barest hint of a smile which only made Stiles grin wider. The boy all but bounded out of bed and bounced around his room, grabbing actual clothes and throwing a sweatshirt over his head.

Derek watched in with… fond amusement, maybe. Or whatever. 

He just liked seeing Stiles normal again. Smiling, bright, with a scent like autumn and cinnamon. It was worth it, he thought. Stiles was worth it; he always was.

With that realization, Derek smiled a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 'Roscoe breaking down' Tumblr prompt/imagine and I had a ton of fun! Of course, I'd love to hear what you guys thought. I adore you all, always <3
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr?
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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